The Huntress
by Le Redhead Merchant
Summary: She'd long since lost herself to time's cruel whims. Setting out to rediscover her existence, she finds something more important than any notion of self-worth. [ATTENTION READERS: I made significant changes to the second chapter and added new material to the end. Please re-read! Thanks!]
1. Paper Airplanes

**Please read the author's note below.**

* * *

_I'm Just Tired of This Place._

* * *

A drop of water clanged against the bottom of a metal pail, filling the stale silence. Slow, contemplative breaths accompanied the sound. Idle hands twiddled calloused thumbs; hair the hue of spring flowers spilled over the edge of a shoddy, creaking bed. The scent of wet earth after a heavy rain wafted through the cracks in the windows as a hand fell to the side of a slim, toned body, weary and sore from years without rest. The rough fingers twitched inward, as if grasping the handle of an invisible sword.

"Hey, sis, time to wake up!" the dark mahoghany door squealed open to reveal a young man, hair white as snow, crazy grin slapped onto his face. He waltzed right over to the makeshift bed and met eyes with Mioko. "Morning," he sang.

She groaned heavily, squeezing her eyes shut and flopping over. She grasped her pillow and pulled it on top of her tousled hair in hopes that it would whisk Wesley away.

It didn't work. "I'll eat your breakfast, Mioko," he stated.

Mioko hurled the pillow up in the air and leapt out of bed in a flash. "You wouldn't," she barked.

"I would!" Wesley roared, flinging himself out the door and down the hall. "Race ya!" he shouted halfway down the hallway.

Mioko made a wild grab for her boots and gloves, shouting, "Oh no you don't!" She burst out the door and chased after her brother. Hopping like an injured rabbit as she tugged her boots on, she made it through their humble kitchen and to the front door. "Wesley!" she screamed. "There's no way he'll eat it," she mumbled, "Right?"

The door sat ajar from its hinges. She raced through it and out onto patchy, muddy grass, every hole, every rut too familiar to her feet to stumble. Men and women of all backgrounds hollered greetings to Mioko, flying past her. Her cherry blossom hair blew everywhere as her boots thumped past sturdy houses. She wove in and out of chatting groups, ducked down passages between buildings, her gaze locked on a bobbing head of silver.

Instinctively looking back to spot invisible stalkers, she collided with someone. He or she obviously stood taller and stronger than her, for she fell back a few steps. "Hey, do you mind," she barked, but trailed off when she met eyes with him.

"Good morning to you, Mioko," he spoke, raising a hand to scratch the back of his navy mop. A wide smile overtook his face. "Running from Alfred again? You know he his hatred for llamas grows stronger still after what you did," he chuckled, tugging her around the corner to hide.

She hurredly trotted back out into the open. "No, Priam, Wesley," she panted, trudging back in the direction of the mess hall.

He immediately understood, "Oh." Priam's face fell, but his eyes still twinkled with amusement.

"Yeah," she yelled forcefully.

Priam still let out a booming laugh. "Ah, Mioko! Don't take it so seriously!" he grinned.

She began to jog away from him, shouting, "You know he's serious!"

"Tell him to meet me after breakfast, then!" He called after his comrade.

Mioko waved absently. "Sure, whatever!" she barked. Her hair trailed after her as she disappeared around the corner of a cottage. Fortunately, the towering figure of the mess hall came into view. Hundreds of men and women spilled in and out of its large, welcoming doors as Mioko jumped into the crowd.

Amused, she pondered what Priam meant by his statement. What did he plan on doing with Wesley? She could only imagine, really...

Filing in with the other hungry warriors, she glanced around the hall. It looked as if it belonged to a great hunter, with animal heads and impressively-sized fish mounted on the walls. The dark-tinted wood mysteriously always smelled fresh and new. To her, it felt like home. Mioko smirked at a particular bear's head; it surfaced fond memories that both alienated and comforted her. "Home" hadn't felt so much like home as of late, anyway.

Long tables occupied most of the floor space, many of them with long benches on either side; the tables without benches had food piled on wood platters, steaming hot and ready to be eaten. She pushed through the crowds to her left and made her way to the nearest table, sliding in right next to Wesley. "Heya, Spike," she remarked.

Banana held between his lips, he jerked his head to see her and jumped. "Gah!" he exclaimed, and the banana plopped to the floor. "You made me drop my banana!" he chided, looking from the floor to her smug face. He gripped two bowls full of rice porridge and beef- which sounded disgusting, but it happened to be their favorite dish.

"Yours, or _mine?_" she interrogated, thrusting her hands on her hips. She glared up at him, leaning close to his face.

He gulped, tightening his grip on the porridge. "Well, uh, I have your porridge for you, and I was, um, thinking we could share your- I mean, the banana!" he explained nervously, knowing full well that if they picked a fight over it, he'd still lose.

Mioko only tossed her head and chuckled. "Yeah, sure. Just gimme my breakfast, idiot!" she shouted good-naturedly.

"Fine, fine! Just pick up my banana for me," he grumbled.

Mioko obliged, swooping to snatch up the fruit and returned it to his mouth.

"Thngth."

"No problem. Oh, and you can carry everything to the table."

He protested, but, intent on keeping the banana in his mouth, he only furrowed his silver eyebrows and followed. They wove in and out of crowds to a table near the middle of the hall.

Mioko plunked down with a content sigh, Wesley standing over her loaded with their food. He placed one bowl before her, and another before himself, finally scooting in beside his older sister.

"Dig in!" she exclaimed, grabbing the nearest set of silverware and shoveling food into her mouth.

Wesley, depositing the banana onto the table, followed suit and quickly began to empty his bowl.

A young woman, curled blonde hair swooshing behind her, swept in and sat next to Wesley. "Dear Naga, you two are more alike than you know," she sighed, setting down her fresh bowl of porridge.

"No we're not!" they yelled in unison, then looked at each other in horror.

Wesley gulped down his last mouthful turning to his companion. "We're nothing alike! C'mon, Chiro-chii!"

She chuckled lightly and started scooping porridge into her mouth. "I'm sure about that," she joked.

Mioko just finished off her bowl. She excused herself from the table as Wesley and Chiro chattered vivaciously, making her way to the kitchen in the back. Bobbing through the crowd, she felt a hand rest itself against her shoulder. She mentally cursed.

Turning with a death glare on, she came to face a sleek-cheeked, spiky golden-haired man. Back at it again, the local flirt. Lately, he'd had his sight set on Mioko, and he'd supposedly do anything to win her over. She'd have none of it. He flashed a brilliant smile and sauntered out to face Mioko. "Hey there, sweetheart. How's breakfast?" he smirked, "I'll get that for ya." He tugged at the bowl, but it didn't budge.

Mioko held a guise of stone; she refused to yield to him. "I can do it myself, Navau, thanks," she ground out.

He chuckled deviously. "What is it with you? The only woman I've never managed to budge even an inch... perhaps you've already fallen for me, and you're trying to keep it locked away?" he reasoned, to which Mioko gave a genuine laugh and began stalking away. He grinned, talking just loud enough for her to hear. "Or perhaps, of course I could be wrong, but- there's someone else?" he cackled.

Mioko stopped dead. How dare he!

His grin grew wider. Bingo.

She spun around violently and stomped up to him. "That's none of your business, and even if it was, it... Still isn't!" she barked in his face. Of all the idiotic things he could've said, all the flirts or insults he could've shot at her, he had to go right for the kill. Mioko couldn't even deny it anymore.

"I know who it is," he sang in an attempt to reel her in.

She immediately walked away briskly. "Yeah, right," she mumbled. Not even he himself knew. She ignored the crowd of gathering onlookers and made a beeline for the exit, holding a hand to her stomach as she shoved through everyone.

_I feel sick..._

* * *

Mioko lay on her bed, aimlessly chucking paper airplanes at the ceiling, moisture no longer dripping from the crack. She sighed wearily.

Chiro sat cross-legged on the dirty floor. "You need to let it go, Mioko. Holding on will only make you-"

"-Bitter, I should know. Thanks Chiro, but I can make my mind up to be angry about this, alright? Besides, this... This isn't about Navau, it's..." she paused, trying to find the right words, "It's about what he said. He knows, Chiro. And he also knows it'll never work. Example a hundred forty-two of how awful my love life is," Her hand fell limply to her side as the last of her bitterly folded letters, never delivered, were thrown across the room.

Chiro's lips formed a thin line. She drew in a careful breath, swiped a stray blonde hair off her rosy cheek, and closed her mouth. She opened it again, this time picking her words cautiously, "If you can't show him, considering his density in these situations, I... I do not understand why you simply won't tell him." There was a long pause.

Mioko's eyebrows dipped further down her face. "What if he doesn't feel the same? Sure, he's the kind of guy that'll just act like it didn't happen, and it'll all go back to the way things were. The way they are," she ranted.

"So what? The irony of this! You're always telling me that I need to be more bold, and adventurous, Mioko. It rips me apart to see you so," Chiro halted before she spoke the next word.

"Weak? Halting? Don't feel bad. I get it," she sighed, "I don't want to let it go on this way; I want to move on, Chiro!" She let her eyes drift toward the wildlife outside the window. What she wouldn't give to finally be free again... "I'm not giving up," she breathed, "I'm just tired of this place."

Chiro nodded, about to speak.

A crashing bang sounded on the door, thrice over. "Mioko! Are you in?" Priam called.

Mioko simply rolled over and stuffed her head under her pillow, pulling it down. Just like earlier, it failed miserably at extinguishing her problems.

Chiro, having never seen Mioko so... Vulnerable, decided to take up arms for her case. "Don't worry," she cooed, making her way to the door. Just as Priam was about to knock again, Chiro snippily pulled it open.

"She's not feeling well, and doesn't want to see you," she clipped. The words sort of fell out of her mouth unexpectedly, but she concluded to just slide with the sassy approach, feeling less than willing to be polite to the man that caused her friend so much anguish.

Priam's face sobered. "Ah, is that so? I figured as much. She looked unwell as she was walking back from breakfast," he mumbled. He rubbed his stubbly chin and cast his eyes downward. "Can you tell her something for me?" he asked. His eyes held something Chiro couldn't decipher.

"Sure," she said slowly, "what is it?" Tilting her head a bit to the side, she pursed her lips. Priam was generally easy to read. Seeing two of her respected comrades acting so oddly made her wonder. Did something happen between the two that she didn't know about? What was really going on?

"Tell her that," he paused for a moment, Chiro swearing she saw something like distress flash across his eyes, "tell her I hope she... Feels better." He sighed, but not in a relieved manner.

She almost pitied the man, though she knew not why. "Okay, I'll pass it on, then," she murmured.

He laughed in an awkward manner, looking down and scratching his head as he backed away. "Thanks, Chiro. See you around," he said, turning to leave. His entire posture seemed almost... Dejected.

Chiro's stomach tied itself into a knot. She felt like an intruder on Mioko's heart, trampling about, unknowing of what she could really be affecting. After letting in at least five different kinds of bugs, she stepped back in the house, carefully shut the door, and locked it. What drove her to lock the door? She couldn't put a finger on it. Wesley wouldn't return for at least another hour- he'd definitely be in an intense training regimen of some sort.

He always jumped in to Priam's rigorous training methods. Priam, although he preferred to train alone, enjoyed having a student to teach his methods to. The silver-crowned boy also made it a goal to beat Priam in a battle one day; it sat just below his more important victory- defeating Mioko. He seemed happiest during the times when all three trained as a unit, though. It goes without saying that Chiro felt like the dust on the wind on those days. She didn't mind. ... For the most part.

Sluggishly stepping back to Mioko's bedroom, she halted before the door.

"Just come in already," came a muffled shout.

Chiro creaked the door open and poked her head in. "You can't hide under your pillow forever, you know," she laughed softly, fully stepping in.

She mumbled something incoherent. Roughly grasping the pillow, she hurled it at the wall. "Screw this. I'm leaving," she exclaimed.

Chiro relaxed a bit. "Oh, okay! You should go talk to Priam. He said he was worried about you," her voice faltered as she talked, observing Mioko ripping her drawers open and digging out seemingly random objects.

Mioko shuffled through a foul-smelling bush and pulled out elixirs and vulneraries, shoving them into her side pouch. "I'll need this, that," she absently mumbled. After ruffling through more junk, she tossed a journal over her shoulder. "Burn that, please," she commanded.

Chiro, realizing what Mioko meant by "leaving," jumped up in protest. "What are you doing?" she shrieked. Taking the journal in her hands and throwing it back, she watched as Mioko pulled a black leather sheath from behind her dresser. How had she not noticed it before?

"I need to find myself again," she declared, spinning around. She gripped the sheath in both her hands, holding it as if it'd break at the slightest disturbance. "I never thought I'd have to use this, but here we go..." she mumbled.

* * *

_Don't Worry About Me, I'll Be Fine._

* * *

Good day to all of you! Introductory chapter is introductory, this is just to establish Mioko's mindset and the world she lives in. This story will tie in to Ashera's Curse if it successfully makes it to that point, along with another story I'm working on which will focus on Sai'Teke's troubles up to the meeting point. Anyway...

I humbly ask for your input whenever possible, and I greatly appreciate any and all support! Thanks!

_Le Redhead Merchant_


	2. Conditions?

_**Attention Readers! I completely redid this chapter and added new material. Please kindly take the time to read it again, as the changes I made were significant. Thank you!**_

* * *

_Conditions?_

* * *

A solemn silence took hold. Mioko's heart pounded and her vision seemed to sharpen dramatically, as if she was an animal in the heat of a fight. The hilt of the sword dazzled sunlight around the room.

"You really don't remember, do you?" Chiro murmured, concern and disappointment etched into her face.

What did she mean? Did she know who they really were? Mioko distinctly remembered the fact that she couldn't remember much of anything when she found herself on Giant's Garden.

_"Hey, you," a voice called out to her._

_She snapped her head in its direction to see a formidable man with a mop of scraggly indigo hair and stubble dotting his chin. "Huh?" she responded. She stood in the grass, rendered completely unable to recall why she stood there, or even how she arrived._

_"Welcome to Giant's Garden," he smirked, extending a hand._

_Her memory drifted lazily around, refusing to bring up anything of use, so she uttered a simple "Thanks," and grasped his hand. Why was she there? She was almost positive her name was Mioko... Shinto? Shintaru? No, Mioko Shintaro. That sounded right. Anyway, the man seemed vaguely familiar, as if she'd gone to school with him when she was just a kid. Of course, that wasn't impossible. If she even went to school. Not that she could rember or anything. It was weird... It was as if someone erased parts of her memory, but not all of it; like some other power was desperately trying to prevent her or others from obtaining some sort of knowledge._

_He nodded and stepped a good distance away from her. "So, you here to test your skills, too? Have at me!" the man barked, dramatically drawing his sword. Ragged cracks ran down its gold surface to an obsidian black hilt. The weapon drew a pang in her mind, and looked incannily like..._

_She speedily drew her own sword from a sheath strapped to her belt, stifling a gasp when the realization set in. Their swords were identical, save for a simple color swap. Her blade shone silver and the grip a dark, dull gold._

_It seemed he was equally as shocked. "Where'd you get that?" he interrogated, but shook his head, "Never mind that. Questions later! Let us begin!" _

_Who did he think he was, just assuming she wanted a fight? Well, maybe she did. But maybe she didn't. "Oh, screw it," she ground out, lowering her body into an offensive position. She immediately caught herself analyzing his body and weapon structure. No weapon had the upper hand since they appeared to be the same, it'd depend on only the wielder. Great, she enjoyed a battle like that... she thought._

_His body tensed, and she prepared herself as he launched forward. His sword clanged against hers and sent a jolt through her body. He pressed downwards._

_Mioko grunted under the pressure, knuckles white from clamping down on her sword. Suddenly something in her reflexes snapped and before she knew what happened, the man and his sword were on the ground._

_His stormy gray eyes widened, his jaw hanging open._

_She couldn't hold back a laugh at his expression. Although, she still was unsure how she managed to best him. "What? Cat got your tongue?" she smirked, sheathing her weapon._

_He shut his mouth and gulped tentatively, then slowly pushed himself to his feet. He flicked some unruly hair out of his face by tossing his head. "I want a rematch," he declared._

_"What?" Mioko breathed._

_"You heard me. I want a rematch," he replied._

_She put her hands on her hips. "I beat you fair and square. There's no need for a rematch, you dope," she sassed._

_He frowned in a kind of indignation, barking a defiant laugh. "No! I wasn't rightly prepared!"_

_"What, too scared to admit a girl kicked your-"_

_"No!" he growled hastily, "I'm aware that women are perfectly capable with weapons, and there's no more shame in losing to one than losing to a man. I just..." He looked to the ground for an answer, his fingers curling into fists._

_His reply sent shockwaves through her soul. He obviously didn't care about her gender in regards to swordsmanship. "Fair enough. What is it, then?" she questioned cooly._

_"I want to have a real match against you, against that... Sword of yours. It's strange. I feel like it's calling me."_

_"That's the most ridiculous thing I've heard," she chortled, "Well, since I've come here anyway." Her eyes quickly swept to the grass._

_The same dorky frown from before overtook his face. "Perhaps you aren't as serious about swordplay as I thought," he mused._

_She uttered a reply, "Oh really? Says the man who thinks a sword is 'calling' him."_

_"Hey, all warriors have their... Uh... Things. To insult those things is a serious violation of respect," he grimaced, crossing his arms._

_Mioko raised a brow. "Violation? Respect? Well, I dunno, but I think..." she paused, unsure where in her muddled brain the next phrase surfaced from, "I think respect should be earned, not obligatory." She nodded firmly after speaking, assuring that her words were honest._

_His body and face relaxed, giving way to a calm grin. "This is true," he confirmed. He hauled his sword off the ground and holding it out. "But if not a match, will you draw your sword again? I want to be sure," requested the warrior._

_She saw no reason not to, so she cautiously stepped back and drew her sword once more. Just as they both suspected, the blades mirrored each other, save for ragged cracks down the man's sword and a color swap between the blade and hilt._

_"Your sword is called Alondite. I have no idea where or how you might've gotten it, but just wielding it alone must make you quite a warrior," he informed her._

_Alondite? Where had she heard the name before? "I... See."_

_"What's your name? I'm Priam, in case you haven't already heard," he chuckled._

_She jumped out of her thoughts and saw Priam tucking away his sword into a worn sheath. "Uh... Mioko. Mioko Shintaro," she muttered. She followed suit and sheathed her own blade._

_"Mioko? Is that foreign?" he inquired, but shook his head, "Eh, doesn't matter. All are welcome here, regardless of background, race, or gender." He smirked at the last word, extending his hand once again in a friendly manner._

_"Glad to be here," she replied, gripping his hand, "Priam."_

"Mioko!" Chiro shouted.

She snapped back to reality.

Chiro stood before her, eyebrows knotted in worry above moonshine blue eyes.

She still needed to ask. "What do you mean? I haven't remembered much of anything since I first came here." Could anything get any more confusing?

The blonde shook her head, ponytail swishing. "Ah, gods help me," she murmured to the ground, lifting her face, "Nothing here has revived anything? Nothing? I mean, really?" she begged.

"No, it hasn't," she replied exasperatedly. Mioko gripped the sword tighter. "So, I think we both know that answers aren't here. I can't go on like this. I can't deal with things not knowing who I am... Was."

For a what felt like decades, her friend bored into her heart with those sorrowful eyes of hers.

"Can you tell me anything?" Mioko voiced.

Chiro quickly dismissed her hopes with a shake of her head. "It's not my place."

She almost nodded, but realized what her words meant. "Wait, you know something? And you haven't told me?" she demanded, taking a step forward.

The girl stepped back. "I'm sorry, but I can't make sense of it enough anyway. I don't even know if I'm right or not," she protested softly.

Her body began quivering. One of the closest friends she had knew something and didn't say anything. "You had the faintest _inkling_ of my identity, and didn't _tell_ me? You, the girl I shared _everything_ with, _knew_ something... and didn't _tell_ me?" by the time she finished talking, her voice rose to an accusatory yell.

Fear just barely gripped Chiro. "You don't understand, I-"

That was enough. "Don't understand? What don't I understand? I don't care why you didn't tell me! I don't care! I spent all this time believing that you cared for me! Well, I get it now. I... I get it," she ranted, jabbing her sword into the sheath. "Goodbye!" she barked, stuffing an elixir into her pouch before marching to the door.

"Please don't do this," Chiro whispered, shaking her head and clenching her eyes shut.

Mioko hesitated when she grasped the doorknob, muttering an "I'm sorry," under her breath.

"Wait, Mioko!" Chiro cried.

She ignored it and slammed the door, running as fast as her feet could take.

* * *

"What the heck am I actually doing?" she asked herself, standing and gazing at the busy docks. Per usual, she couldn't answer her own question.

Was she too harsh? Actually, she definitely unleashed too much fury on her friend. Everyone withheld secrets for a reason. Perhaps Mioko used to be someone terrible, and Chiro wanted to protect her sanity. Still... It hurt to think that Chiro would hold something like that from her. What did she do to be treated that way? Mioko refused to keep anything from Chiro; shouldn't she do the same? Was it really too much to ask?

But what about Wesley? Was he even her actual brother? All she knew was that she immediately felt a connection to him upon their meeting, and he agreed wholeheartedly. They shared faint memories of moments of their supposed sibling-hood, but neither really knew if they were actually related. They did share some similar traits, like a familiar turquoise eye color and identical eyebrow slant. But still... She did feel terrible about leaving him. But if she didn't leave, would she ever know? Would she live the whole of her life without knowing anything? She couldn't; she _wouldn't_.

And there was still Priam. If nothing else, they still had trained and ate together. The both of them held each other in a positive respect, and she at least considered him to be a good friend. She didn't want to think about the consequences any journey would have on their friendship. Well, true friends always stayed friends no matter what, right?

... Is what the fairy tales say. They were adults, and adults... _Move on._

"So, how long you gonna stare at that before you board, sugar?" a perky female voice inquired, presumably of Mioko.

An Anna sister stood to her immediate left with an uncharacteristic solemn expression. Mioko figured she was referencing her blank stare aimed at the docks.

She was standing in the middle of the crowds gathered down at the harbor; of course, since the island was so solitary, there wasn't much of a crowd to begin with.

"Hi Anna," she responded meekly.

"Hi there dearie," Anna nodded, "But you've been standing here for almost ten minutes. I can't help but feel concerned. If you're having trouble deciding where to head out, I can help."

A suspiciously gracious proposal. "At what price?" she sighed.

The familiar sly grin pulled at Anna's lips. "You know us too well, I suppose. Since you're looking rather glum, I'll help you free of charge, but I'll let my sisters know that you owe us a favor," she winked.

She let out a sigh of relief. "Good. Great, thanks. So uh, I'm completely lost and hopeless and I need to get on a boat... Like, now. As soon as possible," she explained.

"I won't question. Anyway, I suggest you come along with me on one of my cousins' boats. He's a wealthy sea-faring merchant and would gladly have you! He's leaving soon, at sundown. We just need to let him know we're coming," Anna instructed, tapping a finger to her chin and pulling her forest green cloak around her body.

Mioko cocked her head. "Really? That's it?" she asked, suspicious.

"Yup! We are cousins. If he knows you're with me, there shouldn't be a problem."

"No, that's not what I m-"

Anna yanked on her wrist. "Oh! The sun's going down fast! We better go!" she laughed nervously, obviously dismissing any further discussion.

Mioko knew she'd gotten herself into a mess, but decided not to care about it.

* * *

A boyish man sat on the opposite end of a wooden desk from Anna and Mioko. He smiled a cheeky smile and tapped his fingers on the table. "So, shall I explain the conditions of your joining us on this ride?" he inquired smoothly, raising a dark red brow. He flipped his cherry red hair out of his eyes.

"Conditions?" Mioko echoed, looking warily at Anna.

The woman just frowned and shrugged.

Mioko sighed, turning to face the merchant. "Let's hear 'em, then," she confirmed, slapping her palms on the table.

He smiled even wider. "Wonderful! Well, I've heard much about your skill as a warrior from various sources, and I even hear your swordsmanship rivals that of Priam's! Rumors or not, you must be at least decent with a sword."

She cocked her head. "Your point being?" she replied flatly.

"If you want to ride my ship to Valm, I ask that you join a select team of warriors to loot the base of notorious bandits. Burn it, run, do what you will, but come back alive and with your hands full of treasure. Do I make myself clear?" he explained, knitting his fingers together on the desk in front of him.

"I don't have to take any lives, right?" she interrogated swiftly. She hadn't killed anyone since her arrival and memory loss and didn't intend on doing it soon.

He laughed jovially and shook his head, responding with a smile, "No, no, of course not! I run this business solely for trade, and nothing more. I have no wishes to take lives. So, are you in?"

She sighed, tossing a glance at Anna, who was once again wearing that odd solemn look. She snapped her eyes to Mioko's and gave a reassuring nod.

"Does Anna count, too?" she asked.

"Ah, yes. Even family has to do business sometimes, no?" he confirmed, not as cheerily as before.

Mioko nodded curtly. "I suppose I have no choice than to join, then," she murmurmed.

The merchant nodded in return and, as if it was magic, whipped a scroll out of his heavy coat and smoothed it out on the table. "I ask that you sign this contract to bind you to my terms," he requested.

"Wow. That's... Pretty official for a hitchhike and a favor," Mioko laughed.

"Er, I know what you mean, but it's just what I must do. Take a moment to read the contract if you wish."

She heeded his advice and glanced over the contract, seeing nothing particularly alarming (except for the portion stating he wasn't responsible for injuries or death). She gripped the quill pen out of its inkwell and speedily scribbled her name in the fanciest way possible. It ended up looking like she'd stuck the pen between her teeth and tried writing what her name looked like when she wrote with her right hand. She blamed it on her left-handedness.

"Brilliant! You are free to move about ship," he grinned, pulling the contracf toward him, "until we set sail in just an hour. Now, if you'll excuse us, my cousin and I need to discuss business."

Anna waved her off. "I'll catch up with you later! Go wander around until you meet someone nice," she instructed Mioko.

"Alright, okay," she responded, scooting her chair back and standing up. She hobbled away and tried keeping her balance up the stairs. Great. She'd committed to the job, and she would do it, just like always.

* * *

Mioko gripped the coarse rope. A lumpy knot sat in the middle of the material, held taut by her two fists. "Like this?" she questioned her new shipmate, Mitzi. The wiry ginger had a bronze tan and funny accent. She had insisted on teaching Mioko something "useful" while she was on board, and the two would get to know each other. Mitzi had also been asked to join the strike team attacking the bandits after they landed.

"Ah, nope," Mitzi laughed, "silly goose, y' f'rgot about the part where you pull over and under the first loop, then you pull'it through the sec'nd loop!" She grinned, nimbly undid her own knot, and retied it just as quickly. "Ya see?" she tilted her head.

Mioko swung a leg around the opposite side of the crate she chose as her perch. "You lost me," she stated.

Mitzi smacked both hands to her face, then shook her head. "Geez-o-wheeze! Cantcha pay attention for more n' three sec'nds!" Mitzi huffed. She undid her knot, then, slowly, mockingly, she tied it inches in front of her pupil's face.

Mioko locked her gaze on the boisterous woman's sturdy yet nimble fingers.

"Do y' understand now?" Mitzi guffawed, finishing off the knot.

Mioko gave a curt nod and set about tying her own knot. She made a loop... And that's about as far as she got. "Nope. Still lost," she huffed, tossing the rope to the ground. She jumped up from the crate. "Maybe," she exclaimed, holding her arms out, "I could be doing other useful things right now, huh?" Slapping her hands at her sides, she turned on her heel to face Mitzi.

The tanned redhead chuckled merrily. "I sec'nd that! Go find Edwin, would ya?" she requested. She busily tossed the rope to the ground and kicked it to the side.

Mioko nodded and turned to leave; where, she knew not, but she'd find him eventually.

The first thing that came to mind as her boots clunked against the wood was that she didn't know squat about ships. Mess hall, galleys, port, starboard, mast, crow's nest... The terms jumbled together in her mind, and few of them stuck to a specific image.

She decided to trot down the stairs to... The place the crew would eat. A boisterous din could be heard booming from below, and it sounded inviting enough. Just before taking the first step, she realized her balance had begun to hold up well.

Hm. Not bad. She continued down the stairs with a smirk. An ungodly stench assaulted her nose, one she knew all too well. "We've not even lifted anchor, and already drinking?" she chortled.

A low whistle pierced her ears as the din fell relatively silent.

"Look what we've got here!" a burly, mousy-haired man bellowed. His eyes fixated pointedly on Mioko, no doubt, he burst into a hearty grin.

The crowd turned all eyes to Mioko, who bristled at the attention. She couldn't make a show of herself, no matter what happened, so she swung a hand to her hip and smirked. "Hey," she greeted the crew.

They cheered their greetings in a low hum, indicating a majority of males. She felt herself relax. She could deal with men.

"Why's a lass like you joinin us?" a tanned, lean male hollered from the back.

The men, nearly all wearing smirks on their faces, leaned in on the table and quieted down once more.

"Lass like me?" she echoed. Her hand instinctively gripped the hilt of Alondite. "What's that supposed to mean?" she questioned, taking swaggering strides toward the table.

The first man who had spoken chuckled, responding, "Nothin'! He's just jealous you have better biceps than him!" He jabbed a thumb at the insulter in the back.

The entire crew erupted into laughter as the man reddened and shrank into his seat.

Once the laughter died down, the crew descended into casual chatter, Mioko already forgotten. She minded little. She was about to find a seat when a pale, jade-haired man stood up. "Hey there," he grinned, "welcome aboard." He grasped her hand gently and they exchanged a friendly shake.

"Thanks," Mioko nodded, feeling her face muscles relax. Something about his welcoming smile seemed to put her at ease, in a way. His casual, yet well-kept common clothing portrayed him as a nice individual. She could tell by his eyes that he was probably sincere. Thick arms, tall build... If he was worth his salt with the sword, he'd make a mighty fine opponent. Judging by his built forearms, he probably trained with a hefty weapon or worked a heavy-lifting job. He seemed almost familiar, in a way.

"Call me Ormond," he rumbled, returning a curt nod.

"Mioko," she replied.

* * *

So, FFn derped and I had already deleted the second chapter doc like the dumbbell I am. So, you get a remastered 2nd chapter, with portions of my half-written 3rd chapter. I felt you all needed new material anyways so I just rolled them into one chapter. I'm feeling inspired, so hopefully I'll get chapter three out in a couple weeks. Meanwhile, I got a juicy idea for Wandering Child ;) and I am working on the next chapter of Ashera's Curse.

Thanks so much to my reviewers! :D I really appreciate your support and time you took to just drop a review here. This story is sorta experimental and I'm glad people have enjoyed it.

Until next time!


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